


The Wages of Innocence

by AlanSchezar



Series: The Demona and Acheron Saga [2]
Category: Gargoyles (TV)
Genre: Action, Gen, Martial Arts, Revenge, noir
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 13:48:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7978921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlanSchezar/pseuds/AlanSchezar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blood and rain soak the streets of Manhattan as a mysterious stranger appears searching for Acheron. Who is he, and why does he seek the Lord of Sorrow? Goliath is going to find out, but at what cost? Follows "Hearts of Stone" and "Deus Ex Angelus" in the continuum, so best to read those first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wages of Innocence

Rain. Cold, hard, unforgiving rain. It's almost as if this cesspool of a city knew I was coming – we – were coming, and prepared us an apt welcome. We've been standing on this observation deck for an hour – he's getting anxious, pressing me to get out, get down to business. Not yet. I wanted to take a long hard look at this city, at the lights, the smog, the skyscrapers, the cars going by. It's the kind of city that could cause us trouble; a city where the line between black and white is as thin as it's ever going to be. Sometimes the ones we need to protect are the gutter trash, the castaways no one wants, while the real scum smell like roses and drive down Park Avenue in stretch limos.

He's bored. I can always tell. He knows me well enough that he just gives up pestering me and finds amusement elsewhere. He's watching them. He likes to watch them. I think he finds some morose pleasure in observing their little idiosyncrasies, the way they walk, the way they talk, how shallow they are, or how noble, how innocent, how pure, or how corrupt. Some things he doesn't share, even with me, but I think I understand. He's forcing himself to see what he might have been a part of. They can see him, but they never pay attention. Wouldn't it be funny if they ever did.

Wouldn't it be funnier if they saw me talking to him...and him talking back. We don't need to speak to communicate, it's easier not to, but we both like to do it sometimes. Maybe talking inside your own head gets too lonely sometimes. I guess talking out loud makes it seem like we're not alone. Maybe it just lets us get apart for a while, if only figuratively. Yes, I imagine they'd have me committed if they ever knew. Of course, the truth of the matter is that a man who talks to his shadow is insane, but a man whose shadow talks back is something else entirely...

He's noticed the punk that's been standing behind me for the past ten minutes...looking me over. I guess he figures a guy in an Armani suit and overcoat must be loaded. Just another easy target. I bet the little puke would happily shove me off this building after he took my wallet. If he only realized the deliciously sadistic things my friend wants to do to him. Normally I would happily oblige, but not tonight.

I turn around, give him the eye. I may only have one, but I like to think I use it well. The punk in the leather jacket tries to stare me down. No dice. I just drag my cigarette and flick it at his feet. The eye says it all. Normally, I'd play the defenseless businessman just for kicks, maybe toss his worthless carcass off the building – maybe not, don't want any pedestrians to get hurt – but tonight I have places to be. He thinks better of it and takes off. Good choice.

Yes, we have bigger fish to fry. We've been tracking him for a couple years now, ever since we got together. It's not the only thing we do, but it's important to him, and thus important to me; we've never been this close before. Kyusai can practically smell the bastard around here, in Manhattan. It puts him into a frenzy; he wants to explode into me and chase through the night like some beast after a blood trail. The funny thing is, I get this tight clenching feeling in my stomach whenever he thinks about him. I've never met the guy, but I hate his guts, just the thought of him makes me sick. I sometimes wonder if one day, neither Kyusai nor Kagami Shinnosuke will exist anymore. Maybe there'll be someone new, not either one of us, but both somehow. I don't think I'd really miss me. I know the world wouldn't.

He won't wait any longer. Neither will I. I wait for the security guard to turn around and step over the guard rail and off the ledge. I love the rush, I have to admit. Nothing like plummeting off a fifty storey tower. He's taking over now; I can feel my flesh stretching, my bones expanding, my blood running cold; time for us to go to work.

...

Yes...to work

We are set upon our task, and nothing shall stop us. Nothing shall stay the hand of Vengeance. This city, this Babylon, this Sodom and Gomorrah of the modern age, cries out for our Vengeance. For our protection. I can hear them...even now as I claw my way across the rooftops, over the alleys...I hear the voices of the innocent dead; it seems that every minute, every day, every place we go, more and more of them follow me, whispering... screaming at me for vengeance. Their fury will be silenced. I...we... will bathe the world in the blood of the guilty! Nothing will wash clean these blood caked claws of mine, but I will purge this world of wickedness...

What is this? That sound...the tears of an innocent...the screams...

Yes...I hear it...it comes from the next alley. I see him...a common punk, a feculent pile of putrescent scum trying to feed off of the pure and the innocent. I shall not have it! He will know vengeance this night!

I can see the fear in his eyes as I land between him and his would-be victim. I can taste his fear.

"Oh...oh God, No! NOOO! Don't hurt me!" the maggot screams. How pathetic. This lowly parasite dares to invoke the name of God, even in the very act of sinning? This filthy predator would dare to beg me for his worthless life when he would happily slay an innocent for a few scraps of colored paper? Let his punishment fit his crime; he would rend and tear the flesh of this woman...the innocent woman who is now fled, and safe from the horror I will inflict...so then let his flesh be stripped from his bones and his bowels be displayed as a warning to others...

"WHOA...okay buddy, just back off, I wouldn't want to have to hurt ya..."

What is this! An officer of the law...? NO! Not even a human!

"H..holy crap...what are you!" the creature is bewildered by my appearance. No more than I by his! A red skinned man-beast with wings, his mouth like a beak, his hair white as the driven snow...a demon? No...not a demon...

"Brooklyn, what is he! Surely not a gargoyle!" another one! A female this time...purple skinned with raven hair. So...they are 'gargoyles'. Interesting...I had heard of gargoyles long ago, but I had never seen one in the flesh, and presumed them all dead. Apparently not so. It also seems that the male is named Brooklyn...after the borough?

"HIISSSSSSSSS! You are interrupting me, creaturessss...leave me be!"

They are surprised that I can speak. They are unsure if I am friend or foe. We shall see. I turn, drawing my blade and striking off the head of the fleeing criminal. His crimson life's blood soaks the walls of the alley, his head rolling into the street. I sheathe my blade as his body falls with a dull thud to the cold wet concrete. A fitting epitaph for a damned soul. I see horror in their eyes; their mouths are agape, revealing their pale white fangs.

The female buries her head against Brooklyn's shoulder...she is a gentle soul, it seems, and very beautiful. I do not wish to look at her – why not? – but I am unable to look away, transfixed. Brooklyn is angry. He stares at me, a cold stare. He is brave indeed...

"What did you do that for? We could have caught him!"

"Why? Ssso you could put him in jail? Sso he could walk back onto the sstreet and prey upon the innocent once again? _I will not have it!_ "

"How dare you!" the female snarls at me, "How can you be so self-righteous? What gives you the right to be judge, jury and executioner!"

Self-righteous! HA! "Our damnation is a foregone conclusion, young one. Our quest hasss nothing whatever to do with righteousnesss. Young ones... _innocent ones_...like you would never undersstand."

"Pal, you are cracked. There's no way we can let you roam around New York killing people...even that kind of people..." He is brave indeed, though foolish.

"Do not presume you can stop me."

"Just watch me."

He lunges, intent on delivering his tiny fist to my chin. I think not. It is easy enough to grasp it and lift him off the ground; a claw around his neck helps to drive the lesson home, "I have heard that gargoylesss are protectors, and your actions, however misssguided, would seem to prove so. Do NOT ssstand in my way; I have no desire to harm you."

I drop him and bow to the female. She seems disgusted. No matter, my work is done. I leap to the wall and disappear into the shadows...or so they think. I wait, listening to them. The female is Angela...a lovely name...and they wish to return to...the castle? To tell Goliath?

I turn to look across the skyline. What castle? Where is a castle in Manhattan? Yes! There! The billionaire David Xantos placed a Scottish castle atop his Eerie building! Xanatos himself is deserving of our Vengeance, but he will wait...father is the target. Now we will see just how vigilant these gargoyles have been over their protectorate...

It was easy enough to follow them, not that I needed to. Still, I cannot help but watch Angela as she glides so gracefully across the sky. Why should I be so diverted by a mere female? Even a gargoyle. Some romantic attraction? No. We are not worthy of such a thing, even if we were capable...so what then?

No matter...the Erie Building looms over me like some great monolith of modern capitalist excess...the tower of Babel, as it were. A greater monument to human arrogance was never created. Why do the gargoyles, a race known for their indifference to materialistic pursuits, make their home in the nest of a viper like David Xanatos? Are they not so pure as I imagined? Or perhaps Xanatos is not so profane...we shall see.

The New York skyline drops away below me as a I claw my way up the edifice of concrete and steel. Xanatos must know of my prescence...Kagami has heard that this tower is a fortress, all but impenetrable, unless its master allows its penetration. They know I am here. As I near the top, I think perhaps Kagami would be best suited for this encounter...my temper may not be helpful in this instance...

So here I am. Nice view. Of course, I didn't come for the view, I came to ask this Goliath character about dear ol' dad. I light up a smoke and lean against a parapet. I figure they'll be out to see me any time now. As I take a long drag, a pair of auto cannons appear from towers across the castle yard, taking aim right at me. Yep, they know I'm here. Of course Xanatos won't fire until he knows why I came, that would leave him forever wondering. Starting to rain again...

And here's the man himself. Not as tall as I figured, only about 5'11". He's a clever one, though, I can tell. Should be interesting...and beside him, his right hand man. Black suit, red tie, wire rimmed glasses, and not a hair out of place. He looks like a walking corpse, stiff as a board. Dressed the part, too. I'd swear they pulled him from the morgue and slapped on a good paint job if not for those eyes...like a hawk. This guy doesn't miss a thing. That's something I can appreciate. I take another drag, give them the eye. Of course I notice the other gargoyles poking their heads up over the parapet. And a couple more coming out with Xanatos and his corpse-hawk-man. The big purple one must be Goliath...and by his coloring and hair, he's related to Angela...his daughter maybe?

Xanatos crosses his arms, "You're aware that you're trespassing."

"Yep," Another drag. I discreetly check the crowd again. Angela and Brooklyn are with Goliath, and there's four more waiting in the wings. Xanatos and Owen make nine.

"May I ask why you climbed up my building? If you're looking for a good view, it's safer to just pay the fee and visit the Empire State Building..."

"I came for the conversation. Besides, there's things you can only see here." I take another look at Angela. Eye contact. I wonder if she recognizes...no, I guess not. She looks pensive, maybe a little scared? No...more curious. I think I know why Kyusai kept looking at her. She looks just like Yuki...like my sister...damn...this complicates things.

"Who are you?" The big one, Goliath, asks me.

"My name is Kagami Shinnosuke. And who might you be?"

"I am Goliath, and this is my clan, Brooklyn, my second in command, and Angela, my daughter,"

Yeah, like, 'my daughter, and if you mess with her I'll tear your guts out and feed them to you, Angela'

"And this is of course, David Xanatos, and his aide, Owen Burnett."

"Angela, Brooklyn and I are already acquainted."

Brooklyn furrows his brow, "What?"

"Allow me to refresh your memory..." I reach into my coat and...the auto guns fix on my chest. Could be a problem. I give Xanatos a look.

"Owen, deactivate the defenses, please."

"As you wish, Mr. Xanatos."

A couple of punches on a portable keypad and the guns disappear. I produce my sword and throw it to Brooklyn. He immediately realizes. Sharp kid. "You here to finish the job, you murdering bastard?" Maybe not so sharp.

"That would be hard to do outnumbered nine to one and having handed over my weapon, wouldn't it?"

They're surprised I know about the others. He snarls to himself and throws the sword back. I put it away. Time to get down to business. I drop my smoke and crush it out. "I came for information, nothing more. I'm looking for Acheron."

Goliath's face tells it all; he knows exactly who Acheron is. Good. "Where is he?"

"In Hell."

"Don't play games with me, Goliath."

"That's where he is, pal, go find him yourself," Brooklyn is starting to annoy me. Gotta respect him for saying what he feels though, considering I already know he's the type to back it up. Or at least try.

"Why are you looking for Acheron? How do you know who he is, or that he was here?"

"I didn't know for sure he was here, until now. And I know him because he's my father."

"What?"

Kyusai slinks across the courtyard, taking a closer look at them. They notice and take a step back. I brush the hair back out of my eye, "Actually, he's not really my father. He's Kyusai's father. Our souls are linked, so sometimes there's a little overlap."

"And this shadow here allows you to transform into that thing we saw in the alley," Angela is sharp too. Beautiful and clever, a deadly combination. Just like Yuki...but that's not a pain we need to get into now.

"Yep. That's what Kyusai looked like when he was alive."

Goliath looks grim, "Acheron was banished to Hell a month ago...I presume he is still there. Why did you want to find him?"

"So I can kill him."

Brooklyn chimes in, "I think he sees himself as some kind of protector or something...he said he killed that guy to protect the innocent. I say it's a load of bull; he's just as bad as all the other murderers."

"What kind of self-righteous arrogance makes you think you can mete out that kind of punishment?" Goliath asks. There's that self-righteous business again. If they only knew.

"Your friend was right, Goliath, I am no better than the scum I kill. I used to kill people for a living, Kyusai used to kill people just 'cause he could. Now we kill the worthless scum that prey on the innocent; we still enjoy it just like we used to. Only difference is now we kill the ones that need killing. I don't give a damn about righteousness. The only thing we care about is protecting the innocent. You ought to appreciate that; you seem like the protective type yourself." I motion to Angela. He gives me a deadly look. I can understand this guy. As long as we both understand who needs protection, and who needs swift justice, we'll get along just fine.

"You...kill people… and you enjoy it!" Goliath growls at me. Noble types always seem to be offended by what I do. I guess I deserve it, but it still doesn't change anything.

"The protection of the innocent is what we exist for. That, and the destruction of the guilty. Nothing else. You can keep your pious moralizations; I don't need them. Things are simple when you already know you're damned; you just get the job done."

"You are not leaving here. You're too dangerous." No! Damnit, don't do this...

"Take my advice," I light up another smoke, giving Goliath the coldest, hardest, meanest stare I can muster, "You don't want to tangle with me." Please, let this work. He might be naïve, but he's a fellow protector...I don't fight protectors. Even we have our limits. Don't be a fool Goliath...

"Come quietly, or we will force you." Damn it! I should have known he'd never back down. I should have seen it in his eyes. He's the kind that would rather die than give up, rather than run from a fight or let the bad guy win. Maybe he's one of those heroes I keep hearing about. Too bad...

I let Kyusai loose; he swarms over me, forcing my flesh and bones and blood into the transformation that we've made so many times before...our minds melding...he's taking over...the rage...!

The blood flows cold and fast through my veins. I do not want this, but I would no more run from a fight than Goliath. As much as it repulses me, I inherited much from father...lust for battle and stubborn determination being foremost. At any rate, perhaps a beating will change the gargoyle's mind. They stand at the ready, waiting for me to attack.

"Not here, Goliath! There are innocentsss here; Angela, Xanatos' son, and we will assume his wife and himself...for now." At the very least the innocents will be safe...we can enjoy this contest to its fullest. "We shall do battle there, in Central Park. Most of the people in the park at thissss hour are the kind of slime we aim to desssstroy, and any that are not will flee quickly, leaving usss alone to fight."

"I accept."

"Good." Not another word. I turn and leap from the parapet. I am almost too far away when I crash to the roof of a nearby building to hear their surprised gasps. They have wings; I must travel by other means. It feels almost like flight...perhaps even more exhilarating...to leap from rooftop to rooftop and wall to wall across the city. They almost have trouble keeping up.

There...Central Park. There shall be our arena of the night. I must be cautious to restrain my rage; I must not do Goliath any permanent harm. I land and throw my sword to the ground, spreading my stance and lowering my center of gravity; Goliath is almost as big as I am, but not quite. I do not want him to hit low and knock me off balance. He lands, spreading his wings and growling, his eyes flashing brightly in the darkness. I will let him strike first...another of my father's legacies to me...

He lunges forward, throwing a skillful punch that is difficult to dodge. I bound backward, letting him come closer, throwing another punch which I again dodge. I move behind him, but he turns, never missing a beat; his technique seems reckless, but it is not...it has a measured, calculated quality to it...interesting.

Another punch. I block with my forearm, attempting a knee strike...he blocks it. He slashes with his tail, but I jump it. He blocks a high jump kick and attempts to upend me; I simply backflip away...why does his technique seem familiar...?

"You fight very much like your father..." he snarls at me, his voice not without an air of respect. My father! So, he has fought with Acheron...but he lives...could it be...could it be that father trained him! Impossible!

My moment of distraction earns me a blow to the jaw and one more to the stomach; I snarl and twist, slashing his face with my tail. He growls in pain as my fist slams into his jaw, sending him backward. The others are arriving now...just gliding overhead...

What is that...that noise? An engine...no….a turbine engine! A swift series of kicks and punches, exchanged back and forth, every one blocked; Goliath is faster than he looks...that sound is getting closer...I summon a blast of energy into my fist, unleashing it like a torrent of pure rage at him...but he blocks it! Impossible without using the Ki! Father must have trained him!

Suddenly, a burst of red lighting splits the night striking...ANGELA! NO!

We turn simultaneously; Goliath lets out a roar of rage and fear as his daughter drops from the sky, landing hard in the dirt a few feet away. The woods explode with men in black hoods, carrying...hammers? More sheet-headed men riding air-bikes surround the others, attacking with lasers and their steel sledgehammers...

"The Quarrymen!" Goliath roars.

Quarrymen! Gargoyle hunters? They surround Angela, one raises his hammer...he would crush a defenseless creature, beat her to death? NEVER! I leap across the distance between us; a pity I cannot see the fear in his eyes as I seize his hammer from his weakling grasp and thrust my claws into his chest, squeezing his ribs, snapping them like twigs as I throw his body across the field and through a tree. Another draws his weapon back, ready to bludgeon me from behind! I swing and smash his head from his shoulders like softball. His hammer will do nicely. One for each hand. "You will NEVER harm thisss innocent, fiends! I WILL SLAUGHTER YOU ALL BEFORE THAT HAPPENSSS!"

The others fight for their lives; they are on their own. Angela will not be harmed, I VOW IT! I feel the rage, the boiling wrath swelling up within me! One strikes, but I dodge, bringing the hammer head up under his chin and over, smashing his skull into a pulp against the ground. Some of the quarrymen have fled, but the truly fanatic ones scream in anger, rushing headlong to their deaths by my hand. So be it!

"LET THE INSSSTRUMENTS OF YOUR CRIMESSS BE YOUR UNDOING!"

A big one swings overhead but I dodge aside and slam the massive block of steel into his chest, crushing his ribcage and organs; his mouth erupts with crimson and he falls dead to the earth. I swing the mighty hammers together, bursting the head of another like an overripe fruit, his blood and brains soaking the hammers, his fellow Quarrymen, and me.

"GRRAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHH!" AGONY! A hammer smashes six of my ribs from behind, sending shockwaves of pain through me; another crashes across my face, smashing tooth and bone...I WILL NOT FAIL! I thrust my claws into his face, crushing his skull and blasting it into dust with my power... _I WILL NOT FAIL ANGELA! NOT AGAIN, NOT LIKE I FAILED YUKI!_ The torturous agony burns me as I am forced to stop a hammerhead with my hands. Goliath slams into the enemy with his shoulder; he is badly injured, but he nods to me. He knows I am protecting Angela...she stirs...she is waking; perhaps the blood and corruption that soaks the earth is enough to rouse her. Most are fled now; I WILL SLAUGHTER THE ONES THAT REMAIN!

The last pathetic, worthless, degenerate worm wriggles away from me; he will not escape. Rage and pain stab me as I tear off his mask and hoist him high by his neck, squeezing...I can feel his bones straining, his airway collapsing under the pressure; his eyes bulge as he gasps desperately to breathe. Every breath I let him take is an outrage to justice and decency! He corrupts the very air with his foulness! The blood and brains of the Quarrymen course off me in rivulets. The salty taste of my own blood runs into my mouth, the ichor staining my armor, dripping down my chest to the ground. Oh yes, this one will die...very, very slowly.

"No! That's enough, Kyusai, please!"

What! Angela stands by my side, staring firmly into my rage contorted face; I turn to see her, my expression fading from rage to sheer surprise. How can she wish to allow this vermin to live?

"Please, Kyusai, please just let him go...don't be like him...have mercy!"

Her claw gently clasps my arm...I...cannot refuse her...so merciful, so innocent, like an angel. No...she _is_ an angel, a pure and innocent angel of the night! I have no _right_ to refuse her! I lower the Quarryman, dropping him and letting him cough and sputter, then run as fast as his legs will carry him. I turn from her; my horrific visage, painted with blood, is no sight for the eyes of an angel. This place, littered with mangled corpses and spattered in gore...is no place fit for a sweet and merciful angel.

Forgive me, Yuki...

"You...saved my daughter's life...thank you."

I turn to face Goliath. Eye to eye. He must be made to understand, "I exissst only to protect the innocent and dessstroy the guilty. Nothing...ungh...shall ssstop me...nothing!" The searing pain almost drives me to my knees, but I will not falter. We must remain forever vigilant...

"You're hurt...can't we help you?" She offers grace...even for an abomination like me.

"No. My regenerative powersss will heal me in time."

"Will you remain in Manhattan then?"

"Will you allow it?"

"It seems we have little choice. Besides, you saved Angela's life...I owe you everything."

I look into Angela's dark eyes, thankful she is safe. At times, when we manage to protect such a precious treasure as her, we almost believe we are not beyond redemption. Almost.

"We will ssstay, for a time. Father will not remain in Hell; he essscaped its confines once, he will do it again. When that day comesss, we will destroy him utterly."

Goliath's reaction is remarkably muted. Is that regret I see in his eyes? The relationship between my father and this gargoyle is far more complex than I can fully comprehend now...could they have been allies? But how could a noble protector of the innocent ever ally himself with a monstrous nightmare like Lord Acheron? Perhaps one day I will learn the truth...or force father to tell me as I crush the life from him.

I turn and retrieve my blade, disappearing into the shadows of the night without a look back. I do not need to look back. The visions of what has transpired tonight swim through my mind; Angela's face, the blood and death, the face of the Quarryman I spared...Kagami was more right than he knew; this city has given us a great deal of trouble...

As I make my way painfully across the city, however, I feel something deep within... satisfaction? Yes. It is a glorious feeling. So long as the innocent are protected, nothing else is important...nothing else matters. That, and only that is my purpose, is our purpose. I do not deserve to feel this kind of joy...but I feel it all the same.

END


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